Cursed Rebellion
by Socrates7727
Summary: Moody teaches the Unforgivable Curses lesson. He calls Draco out for snickering, asking how to tell if an unforgivable curse has ever been used on a person, but Draco knows there isn't any way. There isn't... is there? Eventual Drarry I think, mentions of child abuse, broken!Draco
1. Chapter 1

AN I don't own HP or any of the characters! This started as a drabble while reading GoF but it turned into something more... I hope to have a second (and potentially final) chapter up within a few days! Even Drarry potentially?

* * *

"The cruciatus curse!" Mad-eye Moody paced the classroom, glaring down at each of them as if he might suddenly hex them. "Can anyone tell me what this particular Unforgivable Curse does?" Hermione's hand shot up, of course.

"The cruciatus curse, also known as the torturing curse, is one of the three Unforgivable Curses. When cast, it inflicts excruciating pain on the victim. It's typically used by dark wizards because it's illegal for normal witches and wizards..." Draco couldn't contain a snort, but he muffled it into a cough when he saw people turning to look at him. Like illegality had ever stopped anyone. He knew, offhand, at least twenty so called 'good' wizards or witches who he'd seen cast unforgivable curses at a moment's notice. All eyes returned to the front of the classroom, but Moody had already singled him out.

"Something funny, Mr. Malfoy?" Draco sneered at the man as he hobbled towards the back of the class, but held his tongue. "Tell me, _Malfoy_ , if you're so stupidly confident in the subject of cruciatus curses. How can one tell if a cruciatus curse has been cast on a person?" He felt his lip curl into a snarl, but Blaise elbowed him under the table. The entire classroom was watching.

"If they're screaming, I suppose." The other Slytherins chuckled under their breaths, but Draco distinctly caught a few glares from the Gryffindors near the front of the class. Moody's one normal eye narrowed into a slit.

"Very amusing, Mr. Malfoy. What about after the fact, though? After the curse has been lifted, how can you tell it was cast in the first place?" Hermione's hand shot up again, but Moody was staring directly at him. It was clear he'd pissed the old man off again but Draco honestly couldn't bring himself to care because this was the last topic he needed to learn about.

"You can't tell. It doesn't leave a mark, Professor Moody." Blaise elbowed him again but Moody's face brightened into a smile and Draco was too suspicious to retaliate. The man was clearly enjoying himself, but Draco couldn't understand why. His skin began to crawl.

"Partially correct, Mr. Malfoy. I'm disappointed in your lack of knowledge, given how arrogantly you speak of it. However, there is a potion that, when poured on the skin, can reveal whether or not a person has ever had an unforgivable curse cast upon them. I'm sure you wouldn't mind being a test subject, would you?" Draco sneered. Anxiety was starting to churn in his gut but he felt the eyes of the entire class on him and he stood.

"Ridiculous. There's no such thing." Moody gestured him towards the front of the room, and he obeyed. It was bullshit. There was no way to tell if a cruciatus had been cast and that was what made it so useful, specifically to followers of the Dark Lord.

"Don't be so cynical, Malfoy. This potion is my own special creation and I would appreciate some semblance of respect." Draco couldn't help himself, though, and he twisted his face again into a nasty expression. He glared at the little bottle being offered to him.

"If it's so amazing why don't they use it in court proceedings, Professor? I'm sure you're aware of how many trials have gone undecided because there was no way to prove if an unforgivable curse had been used." Moody glared back at him in turn. This was a trick, some show that he was putting on to make Draco doubt himself. He knew that, and yet the man still managed to put him on edge.

"Because, Mr. Malfoy, I have a particular distrust for authority as of late. Given that the potion only reveals whether or not a curse has ever been cast and not the specifics of who or when, I figured it could wait. So, I've kept the recipe to myself. But, since you seem so sure that it's a hoax, I invite you to try it. If you would display your right forearm." Draco rolled his eyes. There was no way this was actually going to work. It was a sham-some kind of charm that would display whatever answer Moody wished it to-and no one here would ever think Draco had had a curse cast on him. They wouldn't believe it even if it did work.

"Gladly." With one hand, he rolled up his right sleeve. He poured the potion over his forearm easily and leaned back against the desk as if to say _I'll wait_.

"What's going to happen, Professor?" Hermione's annoying little voice floated up to the front of the room and Moody smiled. Why was he so happy? It was honestly starting to get under Draco's skin because he couldn't understand why someone would be so confident in something that couldn't work. And it couldn't work, could it?

"Excellent question Ms. Granger. In a few moments, we will see a reaction here on Mr. Malfoy's flesh." A small stripe appeared on Draco's forearm. He swore internally, but kept it to himself as the strip of black seemed to flicker and fade as if deciding what to do next. Moody grinned.

"Ah, yes, the indicator strip indicates that some sort of curse has been cast upon Mr. Malfoy at some point in his life-no doubt the ferret incident, aye Draco?" Draco sneered, but couldn't help watching the little strip of black. "Any minute now the indicator strip will finish its evaluation and display a color. Green for avada kedavra-which, given that you're alive, Mr. Malfoy, I'm going to assume it's safe to say you haven't been cursed with that particular unforgivable. Blue for the imperius curse, and red for the cruciatus curse. If the indicator remains black, then none of the unforgivable curses have ever been used on this particular person."

The entire class watched with bated breath. Gradually, the flickering of the black stripe grew faster and faster until it almost seemed to be flashing a rainbow of colors and Draco thought it might actually explode. Suddenly, it disappeared. Draco thought it hadn't worked, or that it'd been a sham afterall, but before he could even open his mouth to say so a small rectangle began to appear. It was a dull, sick shade of purple that was reminiscent of the worst bruise Draco had ever seen. Moody's face fell a bit, and he moved to examine Draco's arm.

"Interesting… Interesting indeed." His stomach dropped straight through the floor and Draco became painfully aware of every set of eyes boring into him like drills. He wanted to run or flee but his feet were cemented to the floor. The little strip on his arm was flashing between a deep scarlet red and a horrible shade of dark blue so quickly that no one seemed to be able to distinguish them.

Faster than Draco could react, Moody whipped out his wand and muttered something. A slow, lazy trail of light appeared from Draco's arm and wound around the tip of the wand like cotton candy but Draco couldn't do anything except watch. His insides were churning and his chest had seized so tight he could barely breathe. The entire class just stared.

When the light stopped coming, Moody hummed at it and scrutinized it as if it might tell him what it was, but it was just a ball of light. He stared down the aisle again, glancing between desks, and stopped on a Slytherin Draco didn't know. With absolutely no warning, he jabbed the light into the Slytherin's shoulder. Immediately, the girl straightened in her chair.

"What did you do?" Draco couldn't stop his voice from shaking but he didn't care in that moment. It felt like a ginormous weight had just been lifted off his chest and he didn't totally understand why or what had just happened but it scared him. Moody had done something, that was clear. The girl in the fourth row straightened her spine impossible straight and corrected her hair, which had previously been in a messy bun. She adjusted her robes as if completely unaware of everyone watching her.

"Who's your master?" Moody was speaking to the girl, now, who Draco had never heard speak in class or even gossip before. She twisted her face into a sneer.

"Fuck off, Madeye. At least I didn't have to be rescued by a _Weasley_." The entire classroom went dead silent. For a girl who had never even spoken in class, an insult like that was unheard of and, judging by her friends' reactions, uncharacteristic. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and sneered again.

"Holy shit it's Malfoy!" It was the Weasel that said it, surprisingly, but then it seemed to dawn on everyone else too. She'd adopted his mannerisms, his deflections, even his posture. Draco stared in disbelief, feeling the urge to throw up. Moody observed the girl, tapping his fingers on the desk and occasionally raising his wand in her direction without actually casting anything. She glared, full of arrogance and steel.

"What did you do." Draco wasn't asking anymore, and it showed. Even if the girl had managed to adopt his mannerisms and his quick tongue, he still managed to put enough venom in his voice that the room stilled again. Moody turned to him, disinterested, and rolled his one good eye.

"I transferred the curse is all. Relax, I'll put it back when I'm finished." Draco couldn't do anything except gape at the man he'd previously believed to be crazy. He would have still believed that, if he hadn't felt like an entire boulder had just been taken off of his shoulders. His muscles relaxed for the first time in years. He wanted to cry, for some reason, and habit made him hold back but he didn't understand. What the hell had Moody done?

"Professor, what do you mean you transferred the curse?" Hermione's voice was unwelcome, but her question was not. Draco silently praised her for having the voice to say what he couldn't manage to squeak out and the entire room waited for an answer.

"The imperius curse, Ms. Granger, cannot be broken unless the caster wishes it or dies. However, it can be momentarily transferred to another victim. It is temporary, but it removes the traces of the curse from the previous victim's body just for a moment." Moody gestured back at Draco. Sure enough, the stripe on his arm, though fading, had gone a brilliant scarlet without a hint of blue in it. He wanted to throw up, or run, or do _something_ other than just stand there.

"Mr. Malfoy," Moody's voice made him jump and he didn't register how uncharacteristic that was until he saw Blaise's wide eyes. "When was the last time you were placed under the imperius curse." Draco just shook his head because he couldn't even make his throat open enough to breathe let alone speak but the girl butted in.

"He hasn't ever been put under any curse, you moron!" Her friends elbowed her and muttered her name disapprovingly but Moody only seemed to be more intrigued.

"Interesting. Tell me Mr. Malfoy-and I do mean Mr. Malfoy, not you Ms. Lummi-when was the last time you were placed under the cruciatus curse?" Draco opened his mouth, but there was nothing. It was like some sort of tension, some kind of energy that was always coiled right on the tip of his tongue, had just disappeared. He couldn't think of a retort to save his life. Before he even realized what he was doing, his mouth had opened again and begun to speak.

"December." The entire room gasped but Draco couldn't focus on them because he was staring at Moody. There was no sympathy in his face, no regret. Draco had barely uttered the word before the girl-Katie, her friends kept saying-was on her feet and marching towards him. In an instant, she'd punched him straight in the ribs. He didn't even know this girl! What the hell was happening!?

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco," she hissed, letting the words snake into his ear but not lowering her voice or making any effort to keep others from listening. "You've never been under a curse in your life except when Cyclops over here transfigured you. Tell them!" His mouth fell open, but no sound came out. He couldn't understand what was happening but the sheer anger and hatred in Katie's face had managed to make his blood run cold.

"Interesting…" Moody muttered, moving to join them again at the front of the class. "Interesting, very interesting… How peculiar." Again, it was Hermione that managed to voice his thoughts for him.

"What's interesting, Professor?" Moody barely seemed to hear her.

"It seems that the impulse to lie has also been made apart of the curse. Interesting indeed…" Draco wanted to scream at him and just demand to know what the hell was so interesting but Katie physically restrained him. He hadn't even opened his mouth before she was covering it. It was Potter's voice, strangely enough, that rose above the hushed murmurs.

"Professor, maybe we could continue this in a more private setting?" Again, Draco became overwhelmingly aware of all the shocked faces staring back at him and Katie, who was now hissing threats under her breath.

"Ah, yes, of course. Class dismissed. You three to my office." He gestured at Draco and Katie, but made no indication of who the third person was supposed to be. Hermione and one of Katie's friends both made a move to follow, but Moody stopped them both with a glare.

"Potter! I said my office." Startled, Harry quickly fell into line. It was clear he hadn't thought he would be included in this either. Moody was having none of it, though, and ushered them all into a near-empty office before locking the door. Katie still had her hand on Draco's arm, gripping tight enough to draw blood. With another glare, Moody made her back off.

"Now, Draco, have a seat." Immediately, Katie sat. Draco took a seat also-the farthest one away from Katie that he could get-but couldn't help fixating on that fact. Did the girl… think she was Draco?

"Professor, if I may ask. What's going on?" Moody seemed to have a soft spot for Harry because he gave him a little smaller glare than the others. Slowly, Harry took a seat, putting himself between Draco and Katie. Moody gave them a look, but Draco was so unbelievably grateful for some kind of protection or barrier from the girl that he barely noticed.

"Draco, do you remember who cast the imperius curse on you? Or when?" Katie made a move at him again but with a flick of his wand Moody locked her to her chair. His attention was solely on Draco, who felt like he was hyperventilating. Where the hell had all his control gone!?

"I've never-" But Moody cut him off.

"You have. Given the complexity of the curse and the strength of it, I'm guessing you've been under it for quite some time. You don't remember ever being placed until the imperius curse?" Draco gaped, but slowly shook his head. He couldn't remember any imperius curse ever being cast on him and it unnerved him to say the least.

"Interesting indeed. It's impossible to tell, of course, who cast it or when unless you can remember. Do your loyalties feel any different, by chance?" Again, he hesitated and tried to think. He felt incredibly strange at the moment and not just because his ribs were still aching from Katie's fist. It was like some invisible force had just stripped him of every defense mechanism he'd ever had and he felt exposed in a way he'd never experienced before.

"Any.. allegiances, maybe?" Draco reeled on Moody the second realization hit him but Katie was faster. She screamed about mudbloods and scum and she seemed to take every quick retort right out of Draco's mouth. He felt like he was hyperventilating. A hand on his arm made him jump but he turned and came face to face with emerald eyes. Potter? Why the hell was Potter touching him? But then he realized he'd been practically having a panic attack right there in his seat. Cautiously, Potter smoothed his arm in reassurance.

"Professor, are you suggesting that Voldemort placed Draco under an imperius curse?" Draco stiffened again, but Harry squeezed his arm and Moody merely pursed his lips.

"No, not necessarily." But Draco was thinking, now, and he couldn't stop himself from frantically jumping from thought to thought like a damn rabbit. He didn't feel any loyalty towards the Dark Lord, but he never had. Everything he'd ever done had been for his parents and their loyalties-his mother, and her plans, his father, and… His father. Draco tried to check and double-check again but there was just… nothing?

"My father." He didn't even realize he'd said it, but the truth to that became clear in Katie's reaction. She arched off the chair and lunged for him. She narrowly missed-and only because Potter had stepped into block her-but before either of them could react she had her wand at Draco's throat and half a spell out of her mouth.

" _Stupefy!"_ Moody's wand lowered, and Katie froze on the spot with bits of green light still pittering out at the end. Draco only knew one spell that cast a green light.

"Did she… just try to kill me?" Harry's face paled but Draco was focused solely on Moody, who looked concerned. He hadn't seen anything but glee or annoyance in that face since meeting the man but, suddenly, those ugly features were overwrought with worry. They all stared at Katie.

"Yes, Draco, I believe she just attempted the third unforgivable curse. Given my limited knowledge of Ms. Lummi's temperament, I'm going to guess it was the imperius curse instructing her to do it. Now, you mentioned your father. Have your loyalties towards him changed since the curse was transferred?" Draco's skin was crawling so intensely it felt like it was trying to remove itself from his body-he wanted to scrape it all off, just to make the feeling go away. His breathing was getting harder and harder to control again. He wanted to cry or punch something because he honestly felt nothing toward his father and he couldn't understand where that rush of protectiveness or respect had gone and if they were implying was-

Harry took his hand. It was small, but the contact immediately ripped Draco out of his hurricane of thoughts. They were both still waiting for him to answer, he realized. He nodded, not trusting his voice, and Harry squeezed his hand in what felt like a reward while Moody paced.

"Tell me, Draco, has your mother ever told you what you were like as a baby?" Confused, Draco had to take a second to think. What did that have to do with anything that was happening right now?

"Good," he finally settled on. "Easy." Moody nodded as if he'd expected nothing less.

"Quiet? Never cried?" Draco nodded, but had to hold back the urge to start panicking again. What did it matter if he'd been a good baby!? He didn't understand what they were implying or what was happening and he just wanted it all to stop. Harry squeezed his hand again.

"Professor, are you implying that Draco's father has had him under the imperius curse since he was a baby?" Draco lurched in the chair, feeling like he was going to pass out, but Harry caught him before he could hit the floor. He needed the stone against his body though. It steadied him a bit and Harry seemed to understand that so, rather than pulling him back up, he simply moved to Draco's chair and continued to hold his hand. Gently, he guided the blond to lean back against his legs.

"It's possible. Lucius has long been suspected to suspected dark wizard so the curse would be in his repertoire. Perhaps it started simple enough. As a way to keep him from crying, maybe, or to make him sleep through the night. It appears that Lucius realized the power he had, though, and began to use it because the complexities of this curse are… extraordinary." He wanted to die. It was as if everything he'd ever known had just been ripped out of his hands without any warning and he didn't know what to do. He couldn't breathe. Tentative hands appeared on his shoulders. Slowly, they rubbed from side to side through his robes and grounded him a bit. Harry was helping him for some reason..?

"But, Professor, what about the cruciatus curse?" Instantly, the situation somehow managed to get even worse. Draco actually did swear under his breath but no one was listening to him, thankfully. Moody gave him an appraising look.

"Ah, I'd nearly forgotten. Do you remember who placed you under the cruciatus curse, Draco?" He couldn't stop himself-his mouth opened of its own accord, and it was like every ounce of control he'd ever had had just disappeared.

"My father. Whenever I did something he didn't like." Harry began to play with his hair, but Draco only half noticed. The touch felt good and it was grounding, if nothing else, but he couldn't make himself look away from Moody's one worried eye.

"When you did something he didn't like?" Moody repeated. Draco nodded, but only because the hand running through his hair gave him newfound confidence.

"Professor," Harry's voice was softer now, he noticed, and more gentle rather than accusatory. "How would Draco have been able to do something Lucius didn't like if he was under the imperius curse?" That question burned in the air. He pulled his knees to his chest, even with the hand in his hair, and would have started rocking back and forth if Harry hadn't slid to the ground behind him. A slow, gentle arm snaked around his waist. The other slide up under his arms around his middle, pulling him back against a warm body that was shockingly solid. Who had transformed Harry into a wall?

"Interesting indeed." Draco wanted to scream at the professor that this was far from interesting because it was _his_ life, but he didn't get the chance. "It's possible that Lucius either didn't know he was doing it at the time or hadn't ever given a command regarding it. I suspect, however, given how detailed and complex the commands of this particular imperius curse seem to be that they were developed over years and left nothing out. It's much more possible-though unbelievable-that Draco managed to resist the curse for brief moments." He didn't like those words. They settled in his gut like lead weights and threatened to drown him the next time he dared to move. Harry held him a little tighter, though, and pressed his face against Draco's shoulder until he started to breathe again.

"I thought the whole point of the imperius curse was that it couldn't be disobeyed, Professor?" Moody shook his head, though, eyeing Katie.

"No, it can be resisted. It's extremely rare and extremely difficult but very strong wizards have managed it in the past. Given Draco's prolonged experience, it's possible that he developed some sort of resilience to the curse." Again, Moody looked at him like some kind of test subject and Draco wanted to curl into a ball and disappeared. Harry continued to hold him, though, which helped.

"Is it time to contact Madame Pomfrey, Professor?"

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please please review and let me know if I should continue?


	2. Chapter 2

AN I don't own HP or any of the characters! Sorry this chapter is so short but I figured it was better to update than wait and never update :/

* * *

Draco absolutely refused to let the curse be transferred onto another person. He, of all people, knew exactly what it felt like to be under his father's thumb and he wouldn't wish that on anyone. So, after a lot of arguing, Pomfrey and Moody finally agreed to find another option. In the meantime, Katie was treated with a few memory charms and released, good as new, though Draco now saw remnants of the curse in how she moved. He took the curse back.

It terrified him to even think about but he wanted the curse back. He missed the steadiness, missed feeling like he knew what was going on or what he was supposed to be doing, but most of all he missed the thoughtless warmth. Even when he was scared of his father-which was all the time-the curse had little traces of warmth. Moody said it was the spell, relaxing him so he wouldn't question orders. Draco didn't care, though, because every second he spent without the curse on him made it feel like just existing was a constant stream of panic attacks.

Harry, to everyone's surprise, did not slip away the first chance he got. Even when the curse was put back on, Harry didn't avoid him or go back to their typical dynamic. When Pomfrey lifted it for short periods of time to do health scans, Harry was always there with him and always ready to help him through the panic. He held Draco's hand without judgment. If it got bad enough, or if Pomfrey had to leave it off for very long, Harry would settle onto the bed behind Draco and wrap his arms around the blond like anchors. It was the only thing that let Draco stay conscious.

Eventually, Snape approached them with something called a golem-a person-ish thing made from clay, enchanted to be alive. Creepy, but useful. After having it explained, Draco agreed to let them transfer the curse because, well, it was made of clay. It wouldn't feel the pain, he was assured. It wasn't enough, though, because he knew his father would just cast the curse again as soon as he realized what had happened. It was Harry who suggested building up a tolerance to it.

They began taking the curse off a bit more at a time, working in little increments, just a few minutes to begin with. Draco could have drown in that feeling, though. The sudden uncertainty, the anxiety, and feeling so exposed and vulnerable that even a slight scare might kill him. Usually, it felt like it was going to crush him but Harry just sat there with him. Even for the golden boy, it was uncharacteristic to be so nice to a Slytherin but Draco appreciated it more than words could say. Every time, without fail, Harry anchored him through it until the curse was put back on.

Draco got used to it, slowly. He wasn't able to resist it once put back on, but he was able to endure the panic. And then, slowly, they started practicing rebellion. At first it was just little things. Wearing his uniform slightly disheveled, even when every fiber of his being screamed at him to fix it-Malfoys never looked anything less than their best, he knew. He could do some things easily, like yelling or insulting Potter. It was almost impossible to let the brunet touch him, though, when the curse was on because his skin burned and his muscles twitched with pain at the mere thought. Slowly, he got better, though.

He began rebelling in more obvious ways while under the curse. Taking the spell off still managed to send him into a panic attack, which Harry was always present and ready for, but being under it was getting harder too. There was this little whisper, now, in the back of his mind. When instinct told him to do something, that little whisper questioned it-regardless of what it was. He questioned his father's programming, which was good, but he also questioned basic norms and expectations. Had Snape not known about he curse, Draco was sure he would have been hexed black and blue for daring to mouth off. That instinct, apparently, was his own.

It was a very long, very difficult process of sorting out which pieces were which. At first, his only instinct was to obey, no matter what kind of impulse it was, but he was getting better. It was hard, but he did it. A button left undone on his cloak slowly grew into doodling on his arm during classes. Even just meeting Harry's eye was a challenge. Through this process, it had become painfully clear that one of the main pillars of his father's commands revolved around Harry. No friendship, no positive feeling, no trust. Forcing his eyes to meet emerald while under the curse was one of the hardest rebellions he'd ever had to work through, but they did it.

Emphasis on they.

Harry had been the one-and only-steady constant in this entire shitshow. It was strange, to say the least, considering the hatred he'd harbored for the brunet for so many years but, while fighting the curse, it seemed like he was fighting that as well. And, when the curse was lifted, Harry was the only thing that kept him sane. The brunet understood panic attacks, he said, because he'd gotten them chronically since he was a kid. He never said why, but Draco didn't ask.

They spent a lot of time in the hospital wing together, shielded in one of the back examination rooms so there would be no school article about them. While Pomfrey had watched him like a hawk the first few times the curse was lifted, she became more lenient. She left them alone, often, trusting Harry to keep him calm. It was miraculous, but Harry did it.

The brunet's favorite way, by far, of calming Draco down and easing the panic was by playing with his hair. Draco loved it, too, which helped because it became a sort of trigger whenever he was panicking or slipping too deeply back into the curse. All Harry had to do was tangle a hand in his hair. They still struggled with the curse and with what their newfound friendship meant but Harry was quickly becoming his anchor in everything. He acted normal enough, but he found himself searching the great hall for those emerald eyes. It was like a routine, almost. A sort of rebellion all on it's own, especially when he knew his father would throw a fit if he knew.

Slow progress was still progress, as Harry kept telling him, but for Draco it was too slow. He grew bored of being patient. When he could let the golden boy touch him, while under the curse, without feeling any fear, Draco decided it was time for drastic measures. He talked to a few specific people and made his requests. They followed through. The next day, he strode into the great hall with his signature, platinum blonde hair dyed into streaks of blue and grey-his favorite colors.

Everyone gasped and stared at him, but he'd been expecting nothing less. The Malfoy locks were as recognizable as the name itself and he'd just basically destroyed his. Even Snape shot him a look, but he ignored it. The only person whose opinion even mattered to him now was Harry's, who still pretended that they weren't close at Draco's request. He'd wanted to hide their friendship. But, the hair gave him a kind of confidence that Draco had never experienced in his life so, rather than join a shell-shocked Blaise at the Slytherin table, he strode over to the Gryffindors.

He took the seat beside Harry without even asking. If any spies or teachers were going to write to Lucius about this, Draco was going to piss him off the right way. That, and having so many eyes on him made him want to shrink into the dark-haired boy's side.

"Oi Malfoy what the hell?" But Draco ignored the redhead. Hermione gave him a rather startled but welcoming little wave. Harry, though… Harry was clearly taken about at first, but the Gryffindor welcomed him with a smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Instantly, Draco could breathe a little easier. As the conversation resumed, Harry tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and slowly, gently, massaged the muscle there. He couldn't be sure if anyone else was looking, but the gesture was unmistakably possessive.

A strong, familiar warmth rushed over his body. He shivered, making Harry smile in his direction, but he was much more aware of the table of professors staring down at them. Dumbledore looked rather indifferent to the whole affair, though Draco could imagine he was interested, but most of the other professors had clearly been told about the curse. They were practically bursting with both shock and pride. Snape's eyes burned at the way Harry touched him, but Draco glared right back because this was the one thing he was sure of.

This was the one rebellion he never doubted.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please please review and let me know where I should take this? I'm kind of lost at the moment.


End file.
